maes-chocolate-cookie

[maes-chocolate-cookie]

Hello :)

Could I request the Kamaboko trio with a Hashira reader the view as a mother. They follow her around like a baby duck and seek her attention and approval

They’re just babies 😔 they need a nice hug and a good meal

Our Dear Sensei (Kamaboko Trio)

fem reader

a/n: haven't written for these guys in a HOT minute!!

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The wind whispered through the trees as you walked along the dirt path leading back to the Demon Slayer Corps headquarters. The sky was a soft lavender hue, the first stars beginning to twinkle above. It had been a long mission, but at least it had ended in victory.

You barely made it past the first torii gate when you heard it—a rustling, then hurried footsteps.

“Y/n-sensei!”

Three voices, in unison, calling out to you.

You didn’t even have time to turn before a weight slammed into your side. Tanjiro, ever so gentle despite his strength, buried his face in your shoulder. His breath hitched, relief clear in the way his hands clutched your haori.

“You’re back,” he murmured. “We were so worried.”

A second body crashed into your other side, significantly less gentle.

“Where the hell were you?! We’ve been starving without you!” Inosuke’s voice was loud, muffled only slightly by the way his forehead was pressed into your shoulder. “These idiots didn’t let me run into the mountains to find you!”

And then, Zenitsu. Clinging to your arm like a desperate child, his wails loud enough to alert the entire estate.

“Y-Y/n-sensei! You can’t just go off on dangerous missions without us! What if something happened to you?! Who would cook for us?! Who would make sure Inosuke doesn’t punch a Hashira in the face?! Who would protect us?!”

You sighed, though your lips curled into a fond smile. These three were more than just your students. Somewhere along the line, they had become your ducklings, following you around wherever you went, seeking your approval, your presence.

With a chuckle, you ruffled their hair one by one.

“I missed you too,” you admitted. “And I’m fine. You know I’m a Hashira, right? It’ll take more than a few demons to take me down.”

“B-But still!” Zenitsu sniffled.

“Enough whining,” Inosuke grumbled, though he was still very much glued to your side. “She’s back, and now she can feed us!”

Tanjiro laughed softly, finally pulling back, though his hands still clutched your sleeve. “Are you hungry too, Y/n-sensei? You must be exhausted.”

You hummed, pretending to consider it. “I could use a meal. How about we all eat together? My treat.”

Zenitsu gasped, tears sparkling in his eyes. “I knew it! You do love us! You do care!”

Inosuke pumped a fist into the air. “FOOOOD! Finally!”

Tanjiro’s smile was radiant, his exhaustion melting into quiet happiness. “Let’s go. I’ll help cook.”

And just like that, the three of them trailed behind you, sticking close like ducklings to their mother.

You couldn’t help but feel warm at the sight.

Yes, they were warriors.

Yes, they were strong.

But at the end of the day, they were still just kids.

And you would protect them, feed them, and care for them as long as they needed you to.

The kitchen at headquarters was already warm when you arrived, and despite their exhaustion, all three boys eagerly helped prepare the meal.

Tanjiro, ever reliable, was already washing rice and cutting vegetables. Zenitsu grumbled about being forced to help, but his hands moved skillfully as he worked on seasoning the fish. Inosuke, surprisingly, listened to directions—for the most part. He still insisted on “hunting” ingredients, which really just meant charging into the pantry and coming back with an entire bag of flour like it was a prized kill.

“Y/n-sensei! Look! I got this myself! Now make something good with it!”

You pinched the bridge of your nose. “Inosuke, put that back. We don’t need flour for-”

“Don’t waste my bounty!”

Zenitsu groaned. “You absolute barbarian! You can’t just bring random things and expect them to work in the meal!”

“Yes, I can! And Y/n-sensei is the best! She can cook anything!”

You sighed but patted Inosuke’s head, making him freeze in place before puffing up proudly. “I appreciate the enthusiasm. How about next time we bake something?”

The wild boar boy nodded sagely. “Hmph. Fine. But only because you said so.”

Dinner was simple. grilled fish, miso soup, fresh rice, and vegetables. Nothing fancy, but by the way the three of them practically inhaled their portions, you would have thought it was a feast.

Zenitsu let out a dramatic sigh, clutching his stomach. “I could cry. This is the best meal I’ve had in forever.”

Tanjiro, cheeks slightly puffed with rice, nodded in agreement. “It’s really good, Y/n-sensei. Thank you.”

Inosuke, on his third serving, was too busy stuffing his face to respond verbally. Instead, he let out a pleased grunt.

You shook your head fondly. “Honestly, what would you three do without me?”

Zenitsu gasped. “Perish.”

Tanjiro coughed, looking embarrassed. “I’d… probably manage.”

Inosuke shrugged. “I’d be fine, obviously. But if you want to keep cooking for me, I won’t stop you.”

You smiled, gathering their empty bowls and ruffling their hair once more. “Then I guess I’ll have to keep an eye on you three, huh?”

Zenitsu immediately melted into your touch. “Yes, please.”

Tanjiro laughed sheepishly. “If it’s not too much trouble.”

Inosuke let out a grunt, but you caught the way his lips twitched upward.

You sighed, shaking your head. “What a handful.”

But they were your handful. And you wouldn’t trade them for anything in the world.

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[maes-chocolate-cookie]

x fem reader.

it was exactly 1:03 am when your careful movements had screeched to an abrupt halt, and you swear your heart nearly lurched out of the confines of your chest as a large shadow loomed over you.

you instantly whipped around, mouth stuffed with food, slightly backing up against the refrigerator and glancing up at the man you call your husband— who was solely responsible for the jumpscare.

for a moment, you just stared at him with wide eyes, and he simply stared back. no words exchanged, the peaceful silence of the night replaced by the thumping of your own heartbeat being the only sound. you hastily swallow your food before finally parting your lips at last.

"you scared me!" you whisper-shouted, your hand flying up to press against your chest where your heart was still racing erratically.

finally, his expression shifted— his lips curving into a small, sheepish smile; lightly ruffling the back of his hair as he took a small step back.

".. sorry, i didn't mean to scare you."

his voice was thick with sleep, a touch deeper than usual.

your expression softened, the fright from earlier easing up as you gently closed the refrigerator behind you, now the only illumination in the kitchen being the soft golden hued dim light.

"it's fine," you chuckle softly. "my bad, did i wake you up when i got up?"

you did, yes. was that a bad thing? hardly. your husband was just simply too used to having you in his arms as you both slept, safe and sound within his snug and comforting embrace. he always seemed to stir awake whenever he felt you moving away from his arms, just as he did earlier.

he assumed that maybe you had some business to finish in the bathroom, or that you had simply gotten up to fetch yourself a cool glass of water. so when 10 minutes passed with no sign of you coming back to bed, naturally, he was starting to feel the worry creep in. he was a man on a mission to find his wife and bring her back right where she belongs— in his arms, of course.

and now, here he was.

"it's not a big deal," he shook his head. "were you hungry?"

"uhh.."

"want me to make you something?"

"no, no! it's okay, i just woke up in the middle of the night and couldn't fall asleep for some reason." you finally said, although warmth bloomed in your chest at the way your husband was willing to cook for you in the dead of the night just because his beloved wife had a small craving.

he nodded his head in understanding, the remnants of sleep in his eyes slowly beginning to fade away. you moved away from the refrigerator to walk towards the counter, bringing a glass forward. just before you could reach for the jug, you stilled.

in 2 strides, he had closed the distance. he was standing right behind you now, his broader frame hovering over you— the solidness of his chest almost pressing against your back, as he, too, reached for his glass, while his other hand absentmindedly came up to rest on your waist. your heart skipped a beat at the sudden proximity.

... not that you were complaining.

before you knew it, he was already bringing the glass to his lips. your gaze darted down at your own glass which he had also filled while he was at it.

"well, someone's quiet."

now you were pretty sure he was doing this on purpose now. his hand? still on your waist, his thumb drawing small, featherlight circles over your skin. and the man himself? still standing right behind you, the warmth of his body intertwining with yours.

you could very clearly hear the smirk in his voice.

you huffed, ignoring the way your cheeks warmed up as you gulped down your water.

"you're being awfully flirty for someone who just got up from bed," you shot, finally turning around to face him. and the moment you did? his face was close. too close.

"what, i can't flirt with my own wife whenever i please now?" he raised an eyebrow, leaning down just slightly— his nose lightly brushing against yours in a ticklish, teasing gesture.

you rolled your eyes in response, yet you couldn't help the smile spreading across your lips. you merely hummed, your hands sliding up to wrap around his neck, tugging him down towards you just slightly, and he leaned down instinctively. you placed a soft, fleeting peck on his lips, watching the way his playful expression softened. both of his arms had already found their way towards your waist, gentle and steady.

"give me another kiss, pretty. preferably one that lasts longer."

you giggled, slightly shaking your head. greedy. you reached up again, your lips claiming his in a sweet kiss, slow and unhurried. and he returned the kiss in no less than a second, each movement of his lips against yours speaking like a soft confession of his unwavering love and devotion for you. he pulled you closer towards him, his hold on you tightening— but not uncomfortably. you instantly melted into him, nails gently grazing his scalp.

his lips tilted into the faintest smile in-between the kiss.

you immediately felt it, and smiled too.

that, in turn, made him smile a tad bit wider.

after a moment, you pulled away, lips slightly parted. a soft yet undeniably lovesick smile was present on both of your faces, and the way you two gazed into each other's eyes said more than what words could at that moment.

wordlessly, he began gently swaying with you still between his arms, guiding you into a slow dance. a surprised laugh left your lips, and to him, that itself was the melody for the impromptu dance— your steady breaths mingling with his, shared laughter, stolen kisses and hushed confessions.

perhaps getting caught in the kitchen past midnight wasn't so bad after all.

♡ gojo satoru, geto suguru, nanami kento, itadori yuji, okkotsu yuta (jjk), zayne, sylus, caleb (lads), kurosaki ichigo, ishida uryuu, hisagi shuhei (bleach), mammon, satan, solomon, diavolo, simeon (obm), uzui tengen, rengoku kyojuro, tomioka giyuu, kamado tanjiro (kny), eren yeager, armin arlert, jean kirschtein, reiner braun (aot), anyone else you'd like. (honourable mentions; sung jinwoo and wriothesley because they're fine.)

[maes-chocolate-cookie]

squads’ love language

pairings: n. kamado, t. kamado, i. hashibira, z. agatsuma, k. tsuyuri, g. shinazugawa x gn!reader (separately)

n. kamado ˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗ physical touch

loves patting your head whenever you’re upset or overwhelmed

hugs you tightly after every mission, refusing to let go until she’s sure you’re okay

snuggles close when she’s sitting beside you

t. kamado ˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗ acts of service

cooks your favorite meals when you’re having a rough day

he likes to cleans or mends your uniform without you asking

quietly leaves small helpful notes to cheer you up or remind you to rest especially when your scent is off

and when you’re sick, he’ll prepare tea for you and next to it will be your medicines

i. hashibira ˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗ quality time

he’ll drag you out to climb trees, race through forests, or stargaze in silence

gets annoyed when you don’t join training, claiming “it’s boring without you”

as hard it is to believe but he will sits beside you in silence after a long day,

he doesn’t like it when you’re busy because he thinks you’re wasting your time on something that is not him.

in order to make him feel better, you’ll have to spend lots of time with him

z. agatsuma ˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗ words of affirmation

constantly showers you with compliments: “you’re so amazing! so pretty! i’m lucky!”

writes dramatic love letters and slips them under your door

clings to your hand and says “please be safe” every time you go on a mission

and will DEFINITELY praise you whenever you come back with no scratch on your body

k. tsuyuri˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗ quality time

follows you around quietly

sits beside you during breaks, occasionally offering a flower she picked

slowly starts speaking up more—with the coin—whenever you talk to her first

g. shinazugawa ˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗ acts of service

silently passes you bandages before you can ask

gets flustered whenever you get too close to him

if you’re sick, he’ll try (awkwardly) to cook porridge and nervously hover until you eat it

likes to walk with you and he always walks on the side closest to the road, even if it means switching places five times while you walk

if you’re upset, he doesn’t know what to say but he’ll sit with you and hand you a steamed bun or drink, quietly keeping you company

🍒 reblogs and notes are appreciated !

🍒 sft-chrries 2025

[maes-chocolate-cookie]

sal fisher x reader 🖇️🎼💍 -- popular!reader headcannons!! + scenario

a/n ; i need him so bad sorry.........idgaf..............pls request more sal

(🎵) - he judged you a little bit a first like he didn’t mean it but it just came naturally since you surrounded yourself with all the bullies, jocks, and standard mean girls

- you were lowkey a mean girl too like you had your little group and you should snicker and laugh whenever sal and his friends walked past

- and while you DID feel a TAD bit bad, you and your friends would make fun of his prosthetic head sometimes </3 it was just for a laugh

- but yes, he didn’t like you very much - with people like travis, he could somewhat understand since travis had home issues and… had no friends 🤓 you? you had everything by the looks of it

- you were popular, pretty, and everyone seemed to gravitate towards you

- overall, you were the cliche mean girl who bullied the quirky main characters (who sal and his friends, ever so graciously, gave themselves the title of)

- speaking of cliche, you two started talking when you both were forced to sit next to each other in math class, and you hated math

- he would help you though, which surprisingly you appreciated, in turn, you would help him with his art class portfolio which he also appreciated

- this didn’t mean you were entirely nice to him either, far from it, but when it was just you two it was a lot more chill and you could visibly see him relax around you when your friends weren’t there

- sal desperately wanted to be able to talk to you confidently without you or your friends shoving him into a locker, he wished you could talk to him as nicely as you did in math class

- because you worked so well in class together, you were often paired together in projects

- sally would be the most excited since that meant more alone time with you, while you were teased by your friends (they told you that you should pack pepper spray before you stepped into his room just in case, how loving!)

- as much as he didn’t want to admit it, he was attracted to you, i mean, who wouldn’t be

- he would often space out while his friends spoke amongst themselves, a distant look on his… eye? larry caught on and thought that his best friends strange behaviour came from a girl he liked~ awww

- yeah little did he know 💔 it’s the worst person you know

- larry wouldn’t take it likely knowing that sal has formed a small crush on the person who terrorises him and his friends on the daily

- “dude! you know how bad she can get!”, ashley agrees, sal waves his hand at them dismissively

“it’s fine guys!”

- larry glares at the back of his head as sal walks away, knowing that he has a class with you next

- his friend group thinks your a demon and you’ve possessed him into liking you despite your behaviour

- back to you two, as time passes you get friendlier with sally, the bullying turning into teasing, even with your friends around

- you didn’t miss how sally looked at you when he thought you weren’t looking, he would stutter and look around frantically if you caught him, you thought it was cute

- he wouldn’t show you his face, since you’ve made fun of his prosthetic before and he didn’t want to ruin whatever weird relationship you had built by showing you his disfigured face

- sally is one of the most patient (and slightly pathetic) guys you’ve ever met, so naturally, you form a small crush on him too, but you’d never admit it

- when he walks by you in the corridor, you’d yank his backpack towards you harshly, making his back jolt into your chest

- you’d then wrap your arms around his shoulders, essentially trapping him with his back towards you, and ask him about his day

- sally was a little apprehensive as first, being unable to tell whether you were about to bully him or casually do something sweet and brush it off straight after

- though he soon found that 9 times out of 10, you would be doing something affectionate ❤️

- his friends didn’t like this, obviously, but in due time they’d get used to you, they just wanted to know if sally was being messed with or if you were genuine

- sally would probably have to be the person to confess becuase lord knows your way too stubborn to admit that you actually like the blue haired guy you’ve been bullying just a while prior

- he would be sweating his ass off while shifting in his chair while he found a good time to confess, while you cluelessly played with his cat

- his dad wasn’t home, and he made larry wear a wig and makeup so he could practice his speech (in which todd and ashley recorded without the two knowing)

- but his memory failed him and his mind went blank, so he decided to wing it

- he tapped your thigh, distracting you from gizmo, and you turned to look at him curiously. he looked like he was falling apart as your gaze practically pierced into him

- he gulped silently and turned to you fully, his eye(s) looking down, and told you his feelings (the best he could at least)

- you stare at him for a minute, silent, to be honest he was getting a little upset at the lack of response. he wished you’d say something, anything instead of looking at him like he just killed somebody (💀)

- to his surprise, you leaned in slightly, but stopped and touched the chin of his prosthetic

“can i?”

- he gulped, and nodded his head as he reached for the straps behind his head to take his prosthetic off with ease. he only undid the first one, and only lifted the mask enough for you to reach his lips

- his mouth had a small cleft up to his nose (or whatever was left of it), on the left side of his mouth, his teeth were exposed, scars and missing flesh adorned his face

- despite this, you leaned in fully and managed to close the gap between you, sally’s hand reaching for yours as you kissed, you held each other

[maes-chocolate-cookie]

⋆˙⟡ Love Bomb...Literally ⋆˙⟡

Pairing: Dee Shvagenbagen x Reader

Summary: When Dee makes promises, he keeps them. He does like you, so why not name a bomb after you? Not like any other guy is gonna do that anyway.

CW: Swearing, teenagers, emo teenager Dee, inappropriate jokes

A/N: Literally the first part 3 on my blog lmao lmk if y'all want a SMAU for this guy. I got a lot of ppl in my inbox asking for part 3 so here it is!

Fine shyt I tag: @estell-allary - @drmasacrikxxx - @thecryingcl0wn - @an-autistic-peridot

Part 1! Part 2! Part 3!

Requested by Anon

Dee had been building something for days.

Even Heavy noticed. And he usually didn’t notice anything unless it caught fire or insulted him.

“You in there makin’ an Iron Man suit or something?” he yelled through the door.

“Get the fuck out.”

Which meant: Yes. Kind of. Shut up.

But it wasn’t a suit. It was a bomb.

Not a real one, not anymore at least. It didn’t explode. It just lit up, your name across the LED display. A series of coded messages hidden in pulses of light, timed to music only Dee would’ve composed. He was going to make the wires spell “You make my circuits short out” in cursive. Then he’d time it for your birthday, or a made-up anniversary, or literally any controlled moment where he wasn’t in danger of combusting emotionally.

But emotions don’t wait for occasion.

You made your way over to his house, turns out your teacher issued a surprise pop quiz. Yay.

On the way over, you hoped he wouldn't mind too much considering you'd normally shoot him a text whenever you were rocking up to his place, but it didn't matter right now cuz you really needed to study. You also wanted to ask him why he'd been kinda off lately, he was jumpy while you guys were sitting together at lunch, constantly looking at his bag and stuff. You showed him this new theory about Death Note on Reddit and he didn't seem to care, which was so odd for Dee. He left school really quickly too and that was pretty weird because you two would always walk home together, it was your favourite part of the whole day.

When you arrived, you found him in the garage. Hair wild, jacket half-zipped, eyes wide and pink-cheeked like someone had flipped his internal “malfunction” switch.

“Dee?” you asked, eyebrows raised.

He panicked.

Not outwardly. Not like most people.

He just… made a weird noise in his throat and blurted:

“I-" He looked past the garage door with the despair of a total drama character, which was warranted cuz he just experienced a major voice crack.

"I-uh, I made you a bomb.”

You blinked. “You...what?”

"I named it after you..." He said as though he was confessing a crime.

He shoved a heavy-looking, blinking, absolutely ridiculous metal object into your arms. “It doesn’t explode. It just says things. It’s stupid. I got impatient. And Heavy kept fucking hovering, and I didn’t want you to see it before it was perfect, and now it’s not perfect and you’re here and I know it looks like shit but I’m-”

He stopped. Exhaled. And added, very quietly:

“I like you. A lot. You know that, right?”

You tore your gaze off his eyeshadow covered eyes and onto the bomb, the LED screen blinked [I Like You] in garbled binary.

You stared at the machine, then at him.

And grinned.

“You absolute idiot,” you whispered. “I’ve been waiting for this for weeks.”

You gave him a bone-crushing hug, feeling the metal and copper of the bomb prod at your ribs. You smelt the shea moisture he used in the second step of his curl routine. You had to go on your tippy-toes to give him a quick peck on his cheek, you chuckled watching his eyes widen at the contact. You pretended not to notice it though, for Dee's sake.

Later, when Dee finally finished programming the “proper” version of the bomb, soft music, ambient lighting, a robotic voice that glitched out “You’re my favourite explosion”, he made you sit through the whole thing.

Glam filmed it. Victoria cried. Heavy heckled.

“Bro, you built her a mood bomb. Dude that’s so peak Shvagenbagen.”

Dee just shrugged, still blushing.

“…She liked it.” He said, barely able to keep the smile out of his words.

Now, he's gotta take you out on a date. One where his family can't see the two of you together.

Hope you all enjoyed this! Likes, comments, reblogs and requests are highly appreciated! Requests are open!

Sources! -

Dividers - @enchanthings-a

Icon Header - @mutantfairy

Property of suigenerisisadiva, do not repost my work pls & ty

[maes-chocolate-cookie]

⚠️Please Help my children ‼️

✅️Vetted by @gazavetters, my number verified on the list is ( #641 )✅️

Please donate and share

Hello friends, I am Abdullah Salem Abdullah Jaafar, 26 years old, a graduate of the University College with a degree in Information Technology - Multimedia. I used to have a beautiful family; I’m married and have four children, and my wife is pregnant.

I previously worked at a multimedia company, but because of the war, I lost my job, my home, my car, and now I have no place to live or work.

During the war, we were forced to evacuate more than four times. Each time, we had to leave everything behind without taking any of our personal belongings.

I live in northern Gaza.

We were displaced to southern Gaza, then to Deir al-Balah, then to Rafah, and now we live in an uninhabitable tent that is not suitable for living.

My daughter Rahaf was martyred in the war due to Israeli airstrikes. Now I have Iman, Malak, Basel, and my wife is in her seventh month of pregnancy.

Please, I am in desperate need of your help just to provide food and water for my children.

I lost my home and we have become homeless."

Please donate and share

[maes-chocolate-cookie]

in which TOKOYAMI FUMIKAGE steals the crown jewels, and maybe even your heart

Imagine..

being dressed to the nines in a ballgown / suit, a masquerade mask on your face. You look stunning.

You hand your invitation to the doorman, and he lets you in. You're met with a ballroom of people just as finely dressed as you are.

You're surrounded by grandeur, with chandeliers of prism and gold hanging over you. Waiters and waitresses offer you appetizers and drinks when you enter.

You chat, you drink, and you laugh with nobles and elites. The food tables are full of only the best cuisine, by none other than Lunch Rush.

A slow song comes on, and the lights dim. Guests scatter to find partners.

You stand idly in the center, having no one to dance with.

A man, with the head of a bird, donned in all black, also seems to be in the same predicament as he stands next to you.

A black mask sits atop his beak. He's wearing a black cape over his suit.

He notices you staring, and after a moment of thought, silently offers his hand out to dance.

And the two of you dance.

He's a very good dancer. He holds you close, a firm grip on your waist. You look into his eyes - sharp vermillion eyes. They hold a sense of mystery. You want to know more about this man, but he has not spoken a single word.

He swirls you around the ballroom with precise and practiced movements. He's so suave with his movements, you're charmed. Everyone's staring.

He pulls you closer to his chest, and you feel your body move naturally with his own. His eyes never left yours.

The song ends and he finishes with a dip.

The entire ballroom claps as they scatter once more, off to continue the party.

The bird man holds you for a few more seconds, before he finally lets go. You kind of didn't want him to go just yet.

He begins to walk away, but you grab his arm.

You ask for his name. You wanted to know at least that. At least his name. The name of the man who would haunt your fantasies later.

His name is Tokoyami.

And with that, he disappeared into the crowd.

You stood there wordlessly. What a mysterious man. What a charming man.

You finally snap out of your thoughts and go back into the party. For the rest of the night, you smoothly mingle with more nobles. You even had the privilege of meeting the famous Sir Midoriya, who has been exceptionally kind to you throughout the evening.

As the night progresses, you meet even more nobles, including Prince Todoroki, Sir Iida, and Lady Ochaco, all of them expressing their pleasure of finally meeting you.

In the midst of dancing with your companions, the room suddenly plunges into darkness. The room fills with murmurs of confusion. You wonder what's happening, but before you can make sense of it, the lights flicker back on, and a panicked scream pierces the air.

"Someone has stolen the crown!"

The room erupts into frenzied panic, whispers growing louder as chaos ensues. You notice Sir Midoriya and Sir Iida's expressions immediately change into serious ones, and they spread out, scouring the room for the culprit.

Lady Ochaco clings tightly to you as the chaos escalates, and you do your best to stay close to her amidst the frantic rush of panicked guests.

Several knights, including Sir Midoriya and Sir Iida, rush to the scene, their weapons drawn as they conduct a thorough search of the room.

The lights abruptly go out once more, plunging the room into darkness. In the ensuing confusion, screams of pain pierce the air, one after another.

When the lights flicker back on, three knights lie unconscious on the ground. The guests scream in horror.

"There he is!" a knight shouts, and they all run towards the center, forming a circle around the culprit. Struggling to see clearly, you move closer, squinting to make out the figure. Your breath hitches in your throat when you realize it's him, the bird man from earlier—Tokoyami.

As the knights drew their swords, Tokoyami remained remarkably calm, almost indifferent, with the stolen crown perched smugly on his head.

His vermillion eyes swept the room until they locked onto yours, and your heart stops in fear.

"Surrender now, or face death," Sir Iida commanded, the circle of knights closing in around Tokoyami. And yet, Tokoyami showed no signs of panic.

"Three..." Sir Iida began to count.

"Two..." Tokoyami's gaze remained fixed on you.

"One."

Suddenly, a shadowy figure rose up from beneath Tokoyami's cape, grabbing you. You shrieked in terror as you were pulled against him. Tokoyami sent a menacing glare at the knights, causing them to hesitate and pull their swords away.

"Release Lady Y/N!" Sir Midoriya demanded, his voice laced with panic.

Frozen in fear, you felt the shadows grip you even tighter as Tokoyami stared challengingly at the knights.

"Drop your weapons," Tokoyami said, his voice low, but authoritative.

In fear for your safety, the knights reluctantly complied, dropping their swords to the ground and backing away. Sir Midoriya and Sir Iida looked panicked as they thought for a way to rescue you.

With you still in his grip, Tokoyami and his sentient shadow slowly backed away, their eyes fixed on the knights. They stopped at the exit of the ballroom, and Tokoyami finally releases you. He stared at you one last time, then gently took your hand, pressing his beak against the back of it in a gesture that felt like a kiss.

"Thank you." he whispered softly before his sentient shadow friend fully encapsulated Tokoyami. After a few seconds, the shadow disappeared, and so did any trace of Tokoyami.

"Lady Y/N! Are you hurt?!" Sir Midoriya, Sir Iida, and Lady Ochaco rushed immediately towards you, concern etched on their faces. They quickly escorted you to the healers, who gave you a thorough check-up, but your mind was completely blanked out.

In the days that followed, wanted posters of the bird man littered the whole kingdom, his high bounty attracting every bounty hunter's attention, even from across different kingdoms. Tokoyami became the subject of widespread gossip in Japan for a while.

You found yourself lost in thoughts, haunted by the memory of your encounter with Tokoyami—the thief, the assassin—who danced with you, held you, and then held you captive before unexpectedly kissing your hand and disappearing. What a confusing bastard, and yet, you couldn't stop thinking about him.

Late at night, you sat in your bed with the window open, letting in the cool breeze. You stole a glance at the wanted poster on your nightstand before shaking your head and blowing out your candle.

As you prepared to retire for the night and reached to close the curtains, you gasped, startled by a figure perched comfortably on the windowsill. His cape billowed in the wind, his feathers ruffled, and his vermillion eyes locked onto you.

"Hello again, Lady Y/N."

[maes-chocolate-cookie]

This image is hard AF

Horikoshi sketch for episode 17

[maes-chocolate-cookie]

Just wondering, do you take requests? If you don't you can ignore this or reply that you don't

If you do I'd want to request a Dee x reader headcannon thing where the reader is a vampire (a vampire that absolutely hates all the stereotypes and myths involving their own kind)

Fnfjsj

You rubbed Dee the wrong way, or just the right way depending on your view on it, you were a bit too human, too normal too... Uncanny and that attracted him.

Didn't take long for Dee to take note of your routine and make you two bump into each other "accidentally" and find common ground, as you both kept interacting he noticed odd things about you all of the time like how you blinked sparsely or overdid it, he thought he was going insane but Heavy noticed it too, his younger brother had all types of out of pocket reasonings, at first he thought you were a reptilian, then a ghost, then a siren or a vampire, all of which Dee promptly shut down.

It was only when you almost broke chipmunk's wrist with your bare hands that Dee considered that possibility, a human couldn't be that strong with so little effort, *you* couldn't be that strong, could you?

He thought he was going insane, a vampire? He couldn't possibly believe that and yet he couldn't find another reason for your mannerisms, Heavy was the one who asked, when you stared and nodded he thought all of you were going insane and his only response was "not very wise to use those abilities of yours in the middle of the courtyard, is it?"

[maes-chocolate-cookie]

Poor little you, thinking that your S/O would choose you over the world, when the moment came dread washed over you as you realized they seemed to be actually deciding whether to save you or not, but after a brief moment your eyes catch the softest smile adorning the corner of their mouths "Silly of you to think you were ever in real danger, my love" they coo sweetly in a tone that they only use with you, just like that whatever impression of an upper hand the threat had dissipated completely, you were the only one safe this entire time, your loved one made sure of that by manipulating everything and everyone.

No amount of galaxies slain and burned to cosmic ashes would make you feel as safe and loved as the fact that they risked everything just so you wouldn't even be a factor they'd need to consider saving. You were the only thing that mattered ever since the beginning.

____________________________________________

All of your smart favs, tbh

[maes-chocolate-cookie]

Dee promoted himself into being your translator when he saw the wheels turning and overheating in your head during class because the teacher asked a question you knew the answer to but couldn't properly phrase it in russian

[maes-chocolate-cookie]

I reblog more stuff on @ahiredarsonist some of which is important if y'all want to check it out

[maes-chocolate-cookie]

[maes-chocolate-cookie]

Just saw that one gif of the couple in a haunted house where the guy pushes the girl in front of the “killer” and runs away, so said killer gives the girl his knife and she chases after her man. Could you write a similar scenario. Whether the killer hands reader their weapon, reader asks for it or just takes it, I just think it’s kinda funny. Reader’s boyfriend shoves her in front of the killer and books it so reader ends up with the slasher’s weapon and goes after her boyfriend herself. I’d like Michael Myers and Jason Voorhees please but if you wanna add anyone I certainly won’t stop you.

Slashers' Reaction when they See the Reader being Offered as Bait by Her Own Boyfriend.

Summary: When your cowardly boyfriend shoves you into the path of infamous slashers to save himself, you don’t scream—you get even. Each killer watches you take their weapon and chase down your backstabbing boyfriend with rage, sarcasm and style. Turns out, the real horror isn’t the killer... it’s dating a man with no spine.

Includes: Michael Myers, Jason Voorhes, Bo Sinclair, Charles Lee Ray, Billy Loomis & Stu Macher

A/N: I found this request very interesting, I certainly wouldn't let it go if it were me. Thank you for sending the request, I loved writing it and imagining the scene.

Michael Myers

You should’ve known something was off the second your boyfriend suggested the two of you “go for a walk through Haddonfield” at night.

“It’s Halloween,” you said.

“Exactly,” he replied, smug. “Let’s live a little.”

So you ended up strolling near Lampkin Lane, where the houses were quiet, the wind was sharp, and something was watching you. You turn the corner near the old, abandoned Myers house—the one that’s still cordoned off with faded “No Trespassing” signs and urban legends as thick as fog. The porch creaks in the distance. Somewhere, a swing sways on rusted chains, though there’s no breeze.

Your boyfriend chuckles nervously beside you.

“This is kinda spooky, huh?”

“Yeah,” you mutter, eyeing the dark windows. “I told you this wasn’t a good idea.”

Suddenly, something shifts in the shadows. A figure steps into the orange glow of a flickering streetlamp at the end of the block.

Tall. Silent. White mask. Mechanic’s suit. Michael. Myers.

You freeze.

He’s far away—but not far enough.

Then your boyfriend, in a move so quick and selfish it would impress Olympic sprinters, screams like a banshee and SHOVES you toward the street—toward him.

“OH MY GOD! TAKE HER!” he shrieks. “TAKE HER, NOT ME!”

You stumble into the road, landing on your hands and knees.

“Are you KIDDING ME?!” you shout, spinning around to watch him full-on sprint in the opposite direction.

You can’t believe it. Your boyfriend just offered you to Michael freaking Myers like a sacrifice in sneakers.

You turn back.

Michael is still there. Watching. Still as a statue. His head tilts.

You meet his dark, unreadable eyes behind the mask.

“…I’m not with him anymore,” you mutter.

He slowly approaches. No words. Just the rhythmic sound of his boots crunching on leaves. He stops in front of you, towering and ominous, the chef’s knife in his gloved hand glinting under the moonlight.

You brace for the worst.

Then… Michael raises the knife—slowly—and flips it.

He holds it out to you. Handle first.

You blink. “Wait—are you… giving this to me?”

The silence is deafening.

You glance over your shoulder. You can still hear your ex-boyfriend screaming in the distance, fumbling with a chain-link fence and tripping like he’s in a bad horror movie.

You look back at Michael. His hand doesn’t waver.

“…Hell yes,” you mutter, and take the knife.

You get up. Your shoulders square. You’re no longer the girl who got shoved into danger.

You’re the danger.

“Thanks, Mikey,” you say, not expecting a response. But you swear—swear—his head tilts just a bit more. Like amusement. Then you take off, knife in hand, stalking your way through Haddonfield.

“HEY, JAMES!” you yell into the night. “I’M GONNA CARVE OUT THE WORD ‘COWARD’ ON YOUR BACK!”

From down the road, your ex screams. “WHY ARE YOU SIDING WITH THE KILLER?!”

You shout, “BECAUSE THE KILLER HAS MORE INTEGRITY THAN YOU!”

Michael watches from the shadows, the slightest movement betraying what might almost be a nod of approval.

For tonight, Haddonfield’s boogeyman takes a break.

You’ve got vengeance covered.

.

Jason Voorhees

You weren’t thrilled about this trip to Camp Crystal Lake in the first place. Your boyfriend had sold it as a “fun, spooky weekend getaway”—just you two, nature, and some “light ghost hunting” for his vlog.

You hadn’t signed up to get eaten alive by mosquitoes, much less the thought of possibly running into Jason freaking Voorhees. Still, you tried to enjoy it. The lake was beautiful in that eerie, mist-covered way. You even held his hand while walking the trails after sundown, lantern swinging in your grip, nerves humming with unease.

That’s when you heard it—a twig snapping, somewhere off the trail.

Your boyfriend froze, eyes wide. “D-did you hear that?”

You sighed, half-annoyed. “It’s probably a deer or—”

Crunch.

Another step. Heavy. Deliberate. Slow.

You both turned.

And there he was.

Jason Voorhees.

Towering. Silent. Mask glinting pale in the moonlight. A blood-stained machete gripped in his hand like an extension of his soul. You took a shocked step back. You weren’t even sure if you screamed. But your boyfriend?

He screamed louder than you’ve ever heard a grown man scream. Full panic mode. Then, without warning—

HE SHOVES YOU FORWARD.

“TAKE HER!” he shrieks, dead serious, and takes off running like a cartoon character on fast-forward.

You stumble, barely catching yourself before hitting the forest floor. Heart racing, hands trembling—you look up, expecting death.

Jason hasn’t moved.

He just stares at you. 

You look back in the direction your boyfriend fled, the underbrush still shaking from his cowardice.

Then you turn back to Jason. And it clicks.

“...Did he seriously throw me to you like I’m a Scooby-Doo extra?”

Jason doesn’t answer. Of course he doesn’t. But somehow, you know he gets it. The way his mask tilts slightly, just enough to read like confusion and maybe even a little pity—it’s almost comical.

You wipe some dirt off your pants. “You know what? Screw it. You’re not the scariest guy out here tonight.”

Jason just stands there. Then, slowly, he flips the machete in his hand and holds it out to you.

Handle first. No sound. No words. Just… an offer.

You stare at it.

Then, slowly, grin.

“Oh... Oh, you’re my new best friend.”

You take it. It’s heavy—really heavy—but you’re running on pure adrenaline and RAGE now.

“Thank you, Mr. Voorhees,” you say, sincerely. “I’ll bring it back with blood on it.”

You spin around and stalk into the woods, machete dragging across the dirt, screaming your boyfriend’s name into the trees:

“YOU THREW ME TO JASON VORHEES, YOU SPINELESS TOAD?! YOU’D BETTER HOPE HE KILLS YOU FIRST!”

Somewhere in the distance, you hear a terrified voice yell, “OH GOD SHE HAS A MACHETE—JASON, STOP HER!”

Jason doesn’t move. He watches you vanish into the trees, his massive shoulders rising and falling once with what might—might—have been the ghost of a laugh.

He doesn’t need to lift a finger tonight.

You’ve got it covered.

.

Bo Sinclair

Ambrose wasn’t even supposed to be on the way. You’d both taken the detour after your boyfriend swore up and down it would be a "fun, spooky, abandoned town Instagram thing." Classic him. Anything for the views, right?

But now?

You’re standing in the middle of Main Street—surrounded by wax figures, everything dead silent—and you’re glaring at your boyfriend, who’s just realized the garage isn’t as empty as it looks.

Bo Sinclair steps out of the shadows, wiping his hands with a rag, eyes landing on you both like a lion sighting fresh meat.

"Well, well," he says, slow Southern drawl curling around his smirk. "Y’all lost or just dumb?"

You don’t even get a chance to answer.

Your boyfriend screams—like, actual scream—and grabs you by the shoulders.

“TAKE HER!” he shouts, shoving you toward Bo with both hands. You stumble, trip, and land at Bo’s feet.

Then the bastard runs. Full sprint. Down the road. No looking back.

You lie there for a second, stunned, blinking up at the sky.

Bo just blinks down at you, his expression blank for a beat.

Then his lips twitch.

Then he bursts out laughing.

“Oh, goddamn," he wheezes, clutching his stomach. "You see that? He tossed you like a sack o' potatoes!”

“Yeah,” you mutter, standing up and brushing off your clothes. “Believe me, I felt it.”

Bo whistles, still grinning. “Girl, he didn’t just throw you under the bus, he started the engine and reversed over you twice.”

You’re still glaring after your fleeing boyfriend’s back. The rage is setting in. Humiliation burning behind your eyes.

“Unbelievable,” you mutter. “He really left me to die.”

Bo wipes his eyes, watching you with interest now. “So what’re you gonna do, sweetheart? Scream? Cry? Run after ‘im?”

You inhale sharply, glance over at the tool bench behind Bo… and then look at the wrench in his hand. Your eyes narrow. Bo watches you eye it. Then, with the ease of someone offering a gift, he flips it around and holds it out handle-first.

“Tell ya what," he says with a grin. "You wanna clock him one? I won’t stop ya. Hell, I’ll even give you a five-minute head start before I come collect what’s left.”

You take the wrench.

It's heavy. Cold. Satisfying.

You grin wickedly. “I’m not gonna kill him.”

Bo lifts a brow. “No?”

“Just gonna remind him that if he’s gonna throw me to the wolves, he better hope they’re hungrier than I am.”

Bo gives a low whistle, clearly impressed. “Damn, girl.”

You start marching in the direction your boyfriend ran, full murder in your stride.

As you pass a wax figure of a man mid-scream, you mutter, “Better start running faster, Jason. I’ve got a wrench and no sense of mercy right now.”

Bo watches you go, still smiling, his arms folded.

“Gotta admit,” he says under his breath, “I kinda wanna see how that turns out.”

.

Charles Lee Ray (Chucky)

“Babe, this is not funny anymore,” you hiss, clutching your coat tighter against the biting wind. “We were supposed to be in Little Italy. Where the hell are we?”

Your boyfriend glances over his shoulder, jumping at every shadow. “It’s fine, it’s fine,” he mutters. “Let’s just keep walking. There’s gotta be a main street nearby.”

A garbage can rattles.

You both freeze.

Then comes the sound of tiny footsteps… fast. Too fast.

And then you see it.

A doll. A little red-haired Good Guy doll. Just standing at the end of the alley.

“What the f—” you begin.

And then it moves. Fast, like a blur, and suddenly that high-pitched, gravelly voice cuts through the silence.

“Hi, I’m Chucky. Wanna die?”

The doll leaps toward you both.

Your boyfriend screams like a child at Chuck E. Cheese and, without a moment’s hesitation, grabs you by the arm and throws you in front of him like a ragdoll.

“TAKE HER!” he yells, already bolting down the alley like his soul’s on fire.

You land hard on your hip, scraping your palm against the concrete. “You son of a—!”

Chucky skids to a stop, blinking down at you as you sit there on the ground, stunned and seething.

“…Damn,” Chucky mutters, cocking his plastic head. “That guy really tossed you like yesterday’s trash. That’s cold.”

You slowly push yourself up, wiping blood off your palm. “You think?”

Chucky shrugs, then straightens up, switching the bloody knife in his tiny hand to a reverse grip. “Normally, this is the part where I stab you and laugh about it, but…”

He glances down the alley, where your boyfriend’s distant scream echoes into the night. “I think I just found someone I’d rather gut.”

You raise an eyebrow. “You don’t say.”

There’s a pause. Then you step forward.

“…Let me see that.”

Chucky eyes you. “You wanna borrow my knife?”

“I insist.”

He grins wide, teeth sharp behind the plastic sheen of his face. “You’ve got style, sweetheart.”

He hands it over, hilt first. You feel the weight of it—smaller than you expected, but razor sharp and warm. You give it a test twirl, then glance down the alley where your dear boyfriend disappeared.

You take a deep breath, grit your teeth, and start walking.

“YOU CHOSE ME TO DIE, YOU LITTLE COWARD?” you bellow into the dark. “YOU USED ME AS A HUMAN SHIELD FOR A DOLL?!”

You break into a sprint, blade gleaming.

Behind you, Chucky watches with absolute delight.

“Y’know,” he says to no one in particular, lighting a cigarette, “I think I’m in love.”

Then he casually strolls after you, whistling.

.

Billy Loomis (Ghostface)

The old Macher house had been abandoned since Stu's party. Of course it had—the murders, the blood, the urban legends whispered through Woodsboro’s halls made sure of that. But your boyfriend had dared you to break in with him anyway.

"It’s just an old house," he said. "Nothing’s gonna happen."

You should’ve known something was off the moment the door creaked open by itself.

You wandered the trashed kitchen, cobwebs stringing across cabinets like decaying tinsel. Somewhere down the hallway, something thumped. You froze. He grabbed your arm.

Then the phone rang.

Not a cell phone. A landline. On the counter. Plugged into nothing.

You blinked. Your boyfriend picked it up, smirking like a frat boy on Halloween.

“Hello?” A pause. Then a voice, low, amused, just slightly familiar.

“Do you like scary movies?”

His face went white. “Wh—What? Who is this?”

Your stomach dropped.

“Nope,” he said, slamming the receiver down. “Nope nope nope nope—”

But it was too late. From the hallway, Ghostface stepped out.

Not a replica. Not a costume.

The Ghostface.

He held the knife low, that signature gliding gait stalking slowly forward.

Your boyfriend’s survival instincts kicked in—and unfortunately for you, those instincts said sacrifice your girlfriend.

“TAKE HER!” he shrieked, physically shoving you forward into Ghostface’s path, then booking it full-speed out the back door, limbs flailing like a Scooby-Doo reject.

You hit the ground with a grunt. Time froze. The killer stared down at you. His knife gleamed. But then—he tilted his head, like you were more interesting than expected.

The mask came off.

You gasped.

“Billy?”

Billy Loomis smirked down at you, all smugness and shadowed cheekbones.

"Hi, sweetheart."

You scrambled to your feet. “Are you KIDDING ME?!”

He nodded toward the door your boyfriend had just sprinted through like the coward he was.

“He really just did that,” Billy mused. “Didn’t even hesitate. Just… ‘here, kill my girlfriend, I gotta run.’” He mimicked your boyfriend’s scream with a chuckle. “Classic.”

You glared, chest heaving. “I’m going to kill him.”

Billy raised a brow. “You sure you need me to do it?”

There was a pause. A tense, burning one.

Then you lifted your hand, palm open.

Billy blinked.

“…Can I borrow the knife?”

Billy looked down at the weapon in his hand. Then at you. Then back to the hallway.

“You know what?” he said, almost tenderly. “You’ve earned this.”

He flipped the knife and offered it to you, handle-first. Your fingers curled around it. It was still warm from his grip.

“Thanks,” you growled, eyes blazing. “I’ll bring it back with blood.”

“You better,” he replied, stepping back and watching like a proud director. “Make it messy.”

You threw open the back door and stormed into the night, yelling after your now-regretful boyfriend:

“YOU LEFT ME TO DIE, YOU CHEAP-SHOE-WEARING, NO-LOYALTY-HAVING DOLLAR STORE SCREAM QUEEN!”

Somewhere in the trees, your boyfriend screamed again.

Billy leaned against the doorframe, folding his arms as he watched the carnage unfold in the distance.

He gave a small, satisfied smile.

“Damn,” he murmured. “I think I’m in love.”

.

Stu Macher (Ghostface)

It was supposed to be a fun night.

The local horror maze downtown had been canceled last minute, so your boyfriend had the brilliant idea to “break into the old abandoned farmhouse on the edge of Woodsboro,” which in hindsight was like asking to die in the first ten minutes of a horror movie.

“C’mon, babe,” he’d said, “It’s totally safe. We’ll be in and out. No psycho killers, promise.”

You’d rolled your eyes but agreed—because hey, what could go wrong?

The house creaked like it wanted to collapse on you. Dust curled off the stairs. Every door groaned like a warning. You were maybe two steps inside when a TV flickered to life in the corner of the room, showing a grainy VHS of old horror movie clips—then cut suddenly to live footage of you two standing right there in the house.

“What the hell—” you whispered.

That's when you heard it. The low, distorted voice from behind:

“Wanna play a game?”

You turned just in time to see Ghostface—tall, lanky, and looming—emerge from the hallway with a gleaming knife in hand.

And your boyfriend?

Your loving, caring, chivalrous boyfriend?

He screamed at a pitch only dogs could hear, shoved you toward the killer like a sandbag, and ran.

Not a glance back. Not a “run!” Just: “YOU’RE ON YOUR OWN, BABE!”

You hit the floor hard, wind knocked out of you, staring after him.

Ghostface froze. There was a pause… and then a very familiar wheezy laugh behind the mask.

“Oh my god,” the killer wheezed, pulling the mask off with a flourish. “Did that dude just yeet you at me?!”

You blinked.

“Stu?!”

“Sup!” he said, waving with the knife still in hand. “Didn’t know it was you, swear. Thought I was doing the old ‘boo and stab’ tonight. But wow, your man just offered you up like a Happy Meal.”

You sat up, groaning. “He shoved me so hard I almost blacked out.”

Stu held his stomach, doubled over in laughter. “I can’t—I can’t breathe—he was like ‘TAKE HER, OH MIGHTY KNIFE DEMON, SHE’S THE SACRIFICE.’”

You rubbed your temple. “I should stab him.”

He froze, then lit up. “Wait. Wait. You should! Here—” he spun the knife in his hand and offered it, handle-first. “Go get him, tiger.”

You hesitated.

Stu leaned in, grinning. “You know you want to.”

“…You know what? Screw it.”

You snatched the knife, stood, and dusted yourself off.

“I’m gonna murder him. With my words. Maybe the knife. TBD.”

Stu made an exaggerated swoon motion. “Oh my god. You’re so hot right now.”

You stormed out the front door with purpose, knife in hand. “I SEE YOU HIDING BEHIND THE TRASHCAN, JEREMY! DON’T THINK I WON’T DUMP YOU WITH A KNIFE IN MY HAND!”

From behind, Stu followed casually with the Ghostface mask hanging off one hand and a big grin on his face.

“If you stab him, I’m definitely taking you to prom.”

.

[maes-chocolate-cookie]

I honestly think Konig woud listen anything that sounds remotely like rock, punk and metal so he isn't unfamiliar with Rammstein, not his favourite band but isn't opposed to listening to it either, however, depending on your personality he wouldn't have expected you to bob your head to their songs. He isn't a puritan or a moralist by any means, he couldn't care less if the song was about sex or not, so if you were listening to any of the explicit Rammstein songs he'd give you a nasty side eye, he'd only mean it if you were actually a puritan and a moralist, otherwise he'd tease you about it. "Didn't think you'd listen to these, Soldier" his accent would be thick and you would be able to hear his shit eating grin.

[maes-chocolate-cookie]

hii so sorry to bother you, and you can ignore this if you feel like it, but how about your take on sal and an indie musician reader?

Sal will never admit it but he's absolutely dieing at the thought of you asking him to help you with anything really, need someone else's vocals? he will practice untill he gets his voice to sound just the way you want, Guitar? he'll be the rhythm guitarrist, if you can play that is, he'll help you throughout the entire creative process.

[maes-chocolate-cookie]

Larry/Sal x a reader who overdresses for absolutely every minor event while they look like raccons.

Larry who stares at the dangly earrings their sweetheart just put on and is distracted.

Sal who always helps his pretty partner dress up and even gives advice but gets shu about dressing himself up